


Name

by Love_Psycho



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Suoh Mikoto Centric, gratuitous headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7181009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_Psycho/pseuds/Love_Psycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His name is not important. Until, one day, it is.</p><p>Or, Suoh Mikoto grows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Name

**Author's Note:**

> Because sometimes I write this kind of stuff instead of sleeping when I should uuuugh.
> 
> On the other hand, I wrote this all up in under an hour so yay?

Since he could understand to some extend the world around him, he has known that he is a burden. Unwanted by the people around him.

In another life, another way, they would have been family. But his mother hates him for not being the daughter she wanted, for tearing her up as he was born so she could not have any other children. The only time she looks at him, her face twists up into something ugly, so ugly she avoids him.

His father never looks at him, wanting to pretend he doesn't exist because the inheritance will now have to be divided up further and there is no place in there for a third son.

His older brothers hate him and ignore him in turns. The eldest ignores him the most, while the middle child despises him for being a rival for what should be his.

The rest ignore him. In fact, everyone ignores him. They hire a woman to play nursemaid to him, an older woman with a serious face and stately grace who barely talks to him outside of giving him crisp orders and telling him when dinner is ready. But even she doesn't see him as more than a job.

Like all children, he wants, needs attention. But every time he tries they still ignore him. No, they do worse.

They talk over him, complaining of the noise, the mess, calling for servants to clean things up, for him to be taken away.

He learns to be quiet and keep what he feels to himself. Any emotion, any noise, is trivial and unneeded. More than himself is unneeded.

His name is not important.

* * *

The nursemaid leaves when he is six, when he enters grade school. She leaves a cool kiss on his cheek the day before the entrance ceremony and packs her bags without saying any further goodbye.

The entrance ceremony is boring and he's probably the only one with no parent in attendance. When he returns home, he finds his room has been rearranged, all his old toys and games removed as being “too childish” and in the way in favour of education things, books and other things more necessary in their view.

The only concession to his age is an old lion plush.

He holds it as he reads about lions and thinks they are wonderful. Strong and supported.

At school, it is no better. He is the quiet child, the one just doing the minimal work necessary. He does, in fact, understand. In fact, looking at other children for the first time, he realizes that he's smart for his age, already ahead of them. But he has no desire to push forward, to better himself, so just does what is necessary to keep moving up, to get to the next grade and pass the tests. Nothing more than that.

Teachers ask him questions he has no answers too, until they stop asking questions. One time he hears his homeroom teacher whispering with the gym teacher, calling him a “strange child, an eerie child” and the gym teacher agrees, remarking on how strong the child is.

He doesn't know that this child had to carry things on his own, anything he needed or wanted, without anyone aiding him. The only thing he gets is breakfast and dinner, with them paying for the school lunches he gets at school, bland as ever. He has to be strong if he wants something, anything.

His name is nothing but trouble.

* * *

In fifth grade, something changes. It's nothing big, except that some older students approach him, thinking the quiet, weird kid will be an easy target.

One moment, he's just letting it wash over him, then next he's snapping.

He doesn't even know what they said exactly, can't remember, but the next thing he knows is he's punching the one in front, the leader, in the face.

It dissolves into a battle, a bloody one from which he is the victor.

The teachers arrive late and only see him having beaten the bullies to a pulp. They call the parents of all involved, and there are demands to handle him.

He almost laughs at the thought of his so-called parents coming, except laughter isn't accepted.

He leaves for his house after that and his beaten up appearance isn't remarked upon. Since he wasn't as hurt as the others, and looked like the aggressor, he wasn't cared for by the school's nurse. So he goes to the washroom and cleans himself up by himself, bandaging his wounds carefully. He looks himself in the mirror and thinks _I look like a lion_ before leaving.

Somehow, it becomes a pattern. There would be something that happened, bullies after him, after others, or something else, and he would snap and beat them up. It became well known and he went from the creepy quiet kid to a horrible beast of a child.

His name is monster.

* * *

It is middle school where things change. The middle school his parents send him is part of a ladder school, so he doesn't have to expend much effort to get into high school. It's nothing special to have that, so nothing should have changed.

Except the principle took one look at the file on him and decided he needed a mentor so brought in another somewhat troublesome student, a third year, to look after him. The third year took it as conditional for him being able to move up to high school.

He avoided him as best he could at first. The third year kept following him, kept pestering him, even as he watched him beat up delinquents of all kind, even the entire soccer team one memorial time. He thinks nothing of it.

Then when someone tries to hit him in the back while in a big fight, the third year takes the blow for him and he watches him go down.

Things are a blur afterwards, but somehow he finds himself taking him to the nurse's office, where he is fussed over by the older woman who also gasps and twitters over his own wounds.

The third year smiles at him. “You know, I don't get everything about you, but there's no reason to ignore me all the time. Just work with me so I can get into high school here, I got too many missed attendances to pull it off normally without repeating a year and you don't want me bugging you for another year, do you?”

He eyes him, takes in his blond hair and open smile, the faint scent of alcohol he always has on him – “My uncle runs a bar!” – and shrugs. “Whatever.”

“So, how about we introduce each other.” He offers cheerfully. “I'm pretty sure you didn't listen to my name the first time. I'm Kusanagi Izumo.”

He stares at the offered hand for a long time, then slowly reaches out and, for the first time, says his name.

“Mikoto.”

His name is Mikoto.

* * *

Izumo doesn't really change things at first. He just is there until Mikoto can't think of being without him.

They get into trouble together. Mikoto gets into smoking thanks to him and having access to a bar ends up being too tempting to two teenagers, resulting in them getting drunk and Mikoto waking up feeling awful and throwing up on Izumo. Since it was his idea, Mikoto figures it's fair payback

But slowly, Mikoto lets him in. He still gets into fights, but with Izumo there to back him he comes home less wounded, allowing him to do more and sleep a bit better.

Mikoto actually starts thinking of himself as a person better, thinking about that. He gets to meet Izumo's family, which is loud and crazy. Not always good – they say things that make Izumo's eyes tense and his smile turn brittle – but they look at him.

Mikoto didn't know that was possible. He doesn't mention it, or his family and for some reason Izumo never asks.

Once, he asks why he doesn't ask questions and Izumo shrugs. “I guess it's because we are friends.” He suggests, in a lazy way, in a tone of voice that doesn't justify how he shakes up Mikoto's world and turn it around.

Mikoto grunts in response and steals another cigarette from Izumo.

His name is Mikoto and he's Izumo's friend.

* * *

It's when he enters high school once more that things change again.

A new kid, someone at the middle school, takes one look at Mikoto and calls him something he never expected.

He's always smiling, laughing, cheerful no matter what. But at the same time, Mikoto can't help but find him unnerving, how he seems to look straight through him.

Meeting him is also when he starts having the nightmares.

Mikoto doesn't know what exactly happens in those nightmares, but he wakes up in a cold sweat every time, clamping down on the strange feelings that want to come out. Over time, he learns it is fear and he hates that sensation. More so than the anger that burns hot and fast, that makes his reputation as a terror.

But one day, while at the bar that somehow Izumo is running despite him being underaged, they get a call. For some reason, that stupid middle schooler put that down as his contact, resulting in the hospital calling up Izumo when he lands there.

He's bandaged and has a broken leg and Mikoto wants to smash things.

But this boy, this small boy, smiles at him and doesn't let him do that, brushing away it by cheerfully saying he'll do it if he scratches his foot and no way is Mikoto doing that. He laughs at that and when he comes out of the hospital, Mikoto is there to meet him. He takes one look at Mikoto and beams.

“Come on King,” Totsuka Tatara says brightly, “let's go, let's go, there this cool--”

Mikoto lets Tatara drag him off, the happy babble of his voice washing over him and soothing something inside him.

His name is King.

* * *

Mikoto feels more and more strange. Even with the recurring nightmares, he can't help but relax and let Tatara chase away those shadows, sooth his temper, with Izumo there to keep them both from getting over their heads.

Mikoto finishes high school and stops. Tatara also stops, though that might be because he can't afford to move up to high school. Izumo is exasperated by them both, but lets them both crash at the bar he basically owns now whenever they want.

Now, Mikoto starts to think that feelings aren't that bad, because whenever he's with Tatara and Izumo he feels good, not strange and empty. He avoids his family's house and soon enough takes what few things he considers his and leaves the place.

The only thing in the end worth keeping though, is that old tattered lion plushy.

His name is Suoh Mikoto.

* * *

It comes over him in a wave of red heat, light, fire. And suddenly, he's more. Not just any other normal person, but a King like Tatara predicted.

He looks at Izumo and Tatara and takes their hand, letting the red aura flow down to them, marking them as his own – thinking of a tattoo Tatara drew while he was trying out that as a hobby – and he can't help but smile.

Maybe, just maybe, he's exactly where he's supposed to be. Maybe he's finally home. Maybe he will build a great home for himself and those closest to him. Maybe he can finally feel, both the good and the bad, even with this hot fire running in his veins. Maybe he'll finally open up and turn this small trio into a proper Clan.

His name is Suoh Mikoto and he is the Red King.

Maybe he's a lion too.

That, just that, is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts or feelings or whatnot? Comments are appreciated!


End file.
